Some Guy With a Website – August J. Pollakhttp://www.someguywithawebsite.com
A professionally acceptable distribution of humor, commentary and poop jokesTue, 27 Feb 2018 16:46:32 +0000en-UShourly1https://wordpress.org/?v=4.9.4Drinks Are On Mehttp://www.someguywithawebsite.com/drinks-are-on-me/
Tue, 27 Feb 2018 16:37:30 +0000http://www.someguywithawebsite.com/?p=277Continue reading →]]>Hi, can I talk about this water jug? Kind of a big deal. See, this jug here is worth 344 dollars. At least.

There’s this guy out in California, a health guru named Mukhande Singh. And he’s a founder of an amazing new industry out there called “raw water.”

I know, that’s what I thought too—turns out the water you’ve been drinking your whole life isn’t actually raw! I have been told that it’s full of chemicals, like disinfectants, and something called “fluoride.” Apparently, a lot of municipal water is even bombarded with ultraviolet light—which is a thing that sounds scary—with the claim that doing this “protects the water” from “growing algae” and “spreading brain parasites.”

Now for the first thing: algae? Here I was being told we’re supposed to have more plants in our diet. On top of that—algae is growing? That means life is teeming in natural, raw water. Filtering and chemically treating water means it’s dead. Who eats dead things?

I’ve already forgotten what the second thing was. Brain something.

According to Guru Singh, raw water is better for you because the natural elements aren’t stripped from it by a hundred and seventy-five years of proven infrastructural science. Instead, you just go find a well and enjoy.

That’s really the beauty of natural, untreated sustenance. Just think about how great it would be to avoid the profit-based system of the big water industry and how the entire world can sustain itself just by tapping into this abundant miracle directly in the ground below us, free for everyone. And then stop thinking like that, because this shit sells in Oregon for 67 dollars a gallon.

But let me tell you, it is worth it. See, I’ve been drinking it for a while now, trying to learn the ins and out of the business. Oh, yeah. There’s brands of raw water. It’s like wine. There are subtle differences. Variances from the aging process. Sediment levels. I’m gonna sell some of this soon so you can see what I’m talking about. This one here, it’s got an amazing mouth feel. Like an earthy—oh, whoops. That’s one of my teeth. Huh. That’s like three this week. Thought it was just the iron flavor.

Now I know what you’re thinking: aren’t minerals bad when they’re in water? Like how in Flint, Michigan, everyone’s been freaking out because all their water has lead and chromium and bacteria? Well, first: they’ve had all that in their drinking water for two entire years now. And I would think that if a bunch of elite tech CEOs in California could figure out what was wrong with their water in only a few months and find a perfectly suitable and profitable solution to that problem, surely that would mean if anything in Flint’s water was a problem they’d also have done something about it right now. I mean, really, that’s just cynical.

Second, this is a movement that’s spreading. We’ve already known about the dangers of fluoride—sorry, Christ, my mouth hurts—and finally people like Mukhande Singh are enlightening us about the need to remove ourselves from chemically-treated, mass-produced, easily-accessible, and affordable water. And I trust his insights on this completely, because he has an incredibly exotic name, which I assume is why he legally changed it to that from his birth name of Christopher Sanborn.

But that’s just what this is about—trust. We can’t trust our own water, and so we must start trusting in each other. I’m ready to earn your trust in promoting this amazing benefit to your health and well-being. And investing in this lucrative enterprise is trusting in America.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go have terrible diarrhea.

]]>The Internet is Trying to Kill Youhttp://www.someguywithawebsite.com/the-internet-is-trying-to-kill-you/
Mon, 15 May 2017 14:16:44 +0000http://www.someguywithawebsite.com/?p=272Continue reading →]]>Rare video has been captured of a sketch comedy show I co-wrote with my friend Jared van Aalten.

The Internet Is Trying to Kill You is a sketch comedy show exploring the past, present, and future of social technologies and how they make us less social.

This performance of TIITTKY was recorded live at Highwire Comedy Company in Atlanta, Georgia on April 15, 2017 and would immediately be on the short list for a Suzi Bass Award for Excellence in Dick Jokes if that award actually existed.

If you missed the cultural phenomenon live, please enjoy this high quality recording of “The Internet is Trying to Kill You.” Preferably if you’re not at work at the moment.

]]>The Man and the Mousehttp://www.someguywithawebsite.com/the-man-and-the-mouse/
Mon, 06 Mar 2017 20:05:53 +0000http://www.someguywithawebsite.com/?p=263Continue reading →]]>Good evening, students. My name is Arthur Henderson, and I am an artist. Ergo I am here tonight to talk to you about art. Specifically, and for the purpose of example and education, my art.

What does it mean to be an artist? Well, like any good master of their craft—doctor, chef, teacher—“Artist” is a title to hold dear, and with honor, because it is a representation of the years a person puts into honing and perfecting their craft.

For me, as a true artist, my work is about the joy, and the thrill of creating. To show to the world your unique inspiration, made manifest on canvas. I wake up each day knowing that hundreds, thousands, perhaps millions of people will see my work. What drives you as an artist is the goal to reach that day. That day when you know in your heart you have created a masterpiece.

That day, when my most esteemed patrons came to me asking for a work that would become the very symbol of their enterprise, I knew that this would be my greatest achievement. Like a spark of divine guidance, through my hands that which I already knew was there became manifest on paper. It was that day I knew I had finally achieved my calling. My greatest work: the angry mouse graphic for the Northwest Exterminating Service Advertising Department.

Oh, “Angry Mouse.” Not since the great Walt Disney has one spark of creativity in the form of a small rodent led to the dawn of a cultural revolution. Not a person in this great city has felt untouched by its presence, its stolid, unrepentant gaze seeing over all across billboards and commuter buses. Van Gogh sold but one painting in his tortured career, whereas I am assured that a depiction of my furious-fisted avatar of the suburban psyche will be presented to every citizen of the city of Atlanta and greater parts of Tennessee, lovingly rendered on page 437 of the phone book to which their home receives by government post.

With inspiration comes derivation. Take as example Picasso’s infamous “Blue Period” or the subtle, suggestive focus of Georgia O’Keeffe’s flower paintings. I, too, saw the original mouse as a stepping stone for what could be a further artistic examination of American society. I had here the art in its purest form—raw, blatant, easy to print on business cards. I chose to holiday in the Southern regions, experiencing the art and spirit of Mexico and its gradual influence in Mestizo work through the 19th and 20th centuries. With that spark inside me I was able to produce my next great work: “Angry Mouse With Sombrero and Moustache.” While this one only appeared to the public for a few short weeks, I was told by the sales department that its market influence was, quote, “impactful.”

But art is also about making a message. We must force ourselves to challenge our own conventions, and question the nature of our society. I felt a responsibility to look at the struggle in a class other than my own, and comment on it through my art. With the blessings of my benefactors at Northwest Exterminating, I took a bold risk and attempted a piece with an urban flavor outside my own comfort zone.

In retrospect, “Angry Mouse with Gold Chain and Reference to Sir Mix-A-Lot Song” did not achieve the cultural mending I had hoped to convey. But it is said that the best art can come through adversity. There was a need to find more meaning in my creations—something that could reach into the soul of the American spirit.

When you look upon your own accomplishments you constantly ponder internally, “what is art?” On that historic day when I doodled a small mouse on a napkin while waiting for my pumpkin spiced latte, I knew it was when I realized that I had actually depicted the very struggle of man against nature. I knew then that this would be my path—to constantly move forward and embody the American homeowner’s endless war against the invasion of pestilence and filth. “Angry Mouse” was the spirit of our country, an inspired paean to the 20th century American revival aesthetic. And with my most recent inspiration, “Angry Mouse Saluting Dead Soldiers in an Online Advertisement,” I present that spirit in its most raw form.

In conclusion, students, I shall be sketching crude angry cartoon mice outside your university’s cafeteria for twenty American dollars not fifteen minutes from now. I would very much like to purchase bus fare home. I thank you.

]]>You Must Be Proudhttp://www.someguywithawebsite.com/you-must-be-proud/
Fri, 20 Jan 2017 20:07:15 +0000http://www.someguywithawebsite.com/?p=258Continue reading →]]>In the graphic novel Kingdom Come, DC Comics imagined a future where Superman gave up. The world had grown, and adapted to a meaner, more violent culture that found the truth-and-justice morality of America’s first great superhero to be insufficient to handle the daily crises facing the world. As Superman entered self-imposed exile, the world turned to Magog, a hero of the latest generation who was willing to go to further extremes to fight crime and stop supervillains, including killing them. Magog’s rampant acceptance of collateral damage and lack of checks or balances on his power culminates in an overkill assault that destroys the American Midwest, killing millions.

A returning Superman faced his de facto replacement, a man praised as America’s greatest hero who instantly became its greatest mass murderer. Expecting an intense fight, Superman instead finds a tormented, broken god, who casts much of the blame for America’s fall on the apathy of its former champion.

“Proud? Proud of being the Man of Tomorrow? The world changed,” sobs Magog. “But you wouldn’t. So they chose me. They chose the man who would kill over the man who wouldn’t. And now they’re dead.”

Donald Trump is now the President of the United States. He was, at least through the perspective of the legality of power transfer we’ve managed to successfully maintain over several hundred years, the choice of the people. The caveat is implicit: He was not the choice of most people, and the technicalities that put him where he is are at best scarcely legitimate and at worst fraudulent.

But ultimately, enough people chose him. Enough people wanted the man who promised everything, most of it wrapped in security and brutality. And while I certainly hope the reference to a nuclear-blast-torn Kansas is only an analogy, we will, in the near future, look over a similar scorched rhetorical vista and reflect on what We now represent.

A lot of us, self included, were ecstatic about Fantasy Superman Obama and annoyed with Actual Human Obama. We often see our leaders as Superman, and yet we ignore many of his principles in favor of what we thought, maybe reminiscing about old comics we read as kids, what we thought a superhero was supposed to be. Superman believed in truth and justice. Superman doesn’t want people to suffer. Superman wants to protect a world that opened its arms to protect him. In the final pages of Kingdom Come, a simple statement is offered: “you exist to give hope.”

Americans who thought Superman wasn’t being Superman chose a new Man of Tomorrow. They chose the man who promised to be mean, and to hurt, and to flaunt power. We will, as a nation, have to face this decision we made at some point in the near future. I hope that day we are willing to believe in Superman again.

]]>Welphttp://www.someguywithawebsite.com/welp/
Sat, 24 Dec 2016 00:57:07 +0000http://www.someguywithawebsite.com/?p=254
]]>An Autopsyhttp://www.someguywithawebsite.com/an-autopsy/
Tue, 15 Nov 2016 17:55:36 +0000http://www.someguywithawebsite.com/?p=246Continue reading →]]>In 2004, I moved to Washington, DC to start a new career in politics. I joined up as a web editor at a nonprofit called the Center for American Progress. CAP was, and still is, an amazing organization that is dedicated to pushing progressive and liberal policy ideas. They are a left-leaning think tank inside a city that spent most of the 80’s and 90’s having only right-wing ones. Their work was and remains important and necessary. Also, the organization was entirely dedicated to getting Hillary Clinton elected president.

When I worked there, the heads of the organization were John Podesta and Neera Tanden. The person directing communications and messaging was Jennifer Palmieri. These names might sound familiar to you, because some of them were people who already worked for Bill Clinton, and all of them were people working for the Hillary Clinton campaign.

Looking at the recent election results, it’s difficult if not impossible to reflect on all this in retrospect. None of what I’m saying here dismisses or negates the ideas that CAP pushes, it merely notes the structural underbelly of the machine—and “machine” is the best word for this. For my entire adult life, the Democratic Party machine has been the Clintons. CAP has wonderful goals, but they were also the coating for the goal of making Hillary Clinton president. Obama made Clinton Secretary of State because it would put her in a better place to run for president. The Clinton Foundation did and I hope continues to do amazing work globally, but it also existed to strengthen Hillary Clinton’s credentials to be president. For literally two decades, the entire machine—the gears, engines, lubricants, pistons, drivers, engineers, and hell, the passengers—of the Democratic Party inside Washington DC has been Hillary Clinton. And that machine just exploded over the Atlantic Ocean and its pieces are scattered across thousands of miles of ocean floor now.

It is, in retrospect, astonishing how much the Democratic Party seemed unaware or uninterested in just how many people didn’t like Hillary Clinton. We will parse the statistics for decades on this election, but the one that keeps sticking with me is the one taken after the election about the likability of the two candidates. Clinton and Trump were noted for their historical low approval ratings throughout the election, but this is the poll that showed where it mattered: People who liked Clinton but hated Trump voted overwhelmingly for Clinton. People who liked Trump but hated Clinton voted overwhelmingly for Trump. People who hated both of them voted overwhelmingly… for Trump.

The biggest fear and problem I have with the election post-mortems are the return to the idea that middle-class and working-class white votes are somehow more important than anyone else’s. They’re not, but where Clinton failed wasn’t in thinking they weren’t more important; it was thinking they weren’t important at all. Clinton had numerous policy proposals that would have benefited the white working class. They weren’t emphasized, and as a result, Middle America continued to buy the message that Clinton simply didn’t like them.

There is something very frustrating, looking at what I noted before, about the Clinton machine having been preparing all this for sixteen years, and yet in all that time simply assuming these latent issues would never be a factor. The Democrats simply assumed resentment and anger about NAFTA wouldn’t be an issue. I’m not even talking about watching what happened with Bernie Sanders during the last year here; they had literally sixteen years to figure out a message about this, and they didn’t. The Democrats failed to craft any positive message about unions, even after a decade of Wisconsin politics proving that voters were willing to dismiss that Democratic mainstay for the promise of economic restoration.

And that’s really where we lost here: it didn’t matter if this was all bullshit. It’s what they wanted to hear. They thought the system had abandoned them. And the system was Hillary Clinton. The Republicans had their machine too; until last year the same familiar names in DC and on television insisted Jeb Bush would be the Republican nominee. Trump offered a year’s supply of utter bullshit wrapped in the promise that at least if you let him try, it wouldn’t be one of the family dynasties that screwed you over all this time. Bush was destroyed first, and brutally, and Clinton should have seen this coming. Like so many other things, she didn’t.

I have incredible sympathy for Hillary Clinton on all of this. It wasn’t fair. The attacks on her were borne from obsession and misogyny and irrational hatred and the desperate need for her opponents to create a living target of their hatred and resentment. Her highest approval ratings were three to six years ago, when many were able to focus that on the black guy instead. But at the end, Trump was able to capitalize on this cruel, unfair, but unmistakably and unavoidably true concept: half of America hated Hillary Clinton. I have spent my entire adult life watching half of America hate Hillary Clinton.

Clinton is a human being. She’s a woman who had been abused and attacked for much of her life, and I think any rational person would understand, if not condone, the paranoia and sensitivity and carefulness that would define her campaign. It would define her inner circle, her loss-versus-gain data operation, her private server. But all of this was designed to try and work around half the country’s dislike of her, instead of trying to improve it. So Clinton gambled her campaign, and the country, on the idea that people would hate Donald Trump more, and unfortunately thanks to demographics and the Electoral College she lost that bet.

When we look back on this in the future, and are demanded to inarticulately point out a single point where Clinton truly lost this election, it won’t be James Comey or the emails or Bill’s adultery or Benghazi. It will be the “basket of deplorables” remark. It was that moment when Clinton’s demographic strategy was doomed, because it gave millions of people looking for a reason to hate her—hate her in a way that made supporting a racist, sexist, incompetent fascist justifiable—an excuse to say they felt like she hated them back. This was the moment when Clinton rationalized white supremacy in Middle America.

I want to be clear here that I’m not trying to ignore or dismiss the significance of racism and white resentment in this election. I look at this as a given, and something that will require its own separate examination and ongoing discussion beyond the purview of this piece. On election night, I decided to take a break from social media because as a straight, white man, I think the last thing anyone needed was my perspective on how this “might not be as bad as it looks.” There is a meanness in our culture, perhaps perpetuated by the news, perhaps social media, perhaps just the true nature of ourselves. But whatever it is, it festered and popped this year, and it gave millions of people a reason to hate, and we’re going to have to look at this, and we’re going to have to talk about it.

I am choosing, deliberately, to not end all this with either thoughts or predictions, pessimism or optimism. I certainly have all of that, but that’s not why I wrote all this. You may all take this for what you will. Better people than me will get into it further, but I’d have been remiss in not at least trying to explain what I saw from my experiences and so I hope I’ve done my best here.

Image: Bill Mauldin

]]>The British Invasionhttp://www.someguywithawebsite.com/the-british-invasion/
Wed, 12 Oct 2016 15:51:24 +0000http://www.someguywithawebsite.com/?p=240Continue reading →]]>My god, I just… ladies and gentlemen, looking over this carnage is just amazing. In all my years as a reporter, I wouldn’t have believed it if I didn’t see it for myself. It’s been roughly two, three hours since the monster’s last appearance and this country, and perhaps the world, is still reeling from it. The way I’ve heard it, it’s like something out of an children’s science fiction book—this enormous monster, rampaging through a city, leaving nothing but destruction in its wake.

This reporter has not seen the monster himself. And yet, reading reports from Twitter, and Facebook, and other social media, it’s all the same. Viewers across the world are sharing their own witness accounts of this.

Our proud nation is standing strong. This incredible invader to American shores has not yet conquered us, but vigilant we remain. Still, questions abound. Where did it come from? What does it want? Why has it done what it did? None of these questions we have answers for yet, America. We only know this creature has a name: John Oliver.

As I said, it’s been mere hours since John Oliver’s last appearance and already the reports have indicated another massive amount of damage. A report on Facebook indicates that the monster is prone to “blasting” things: people, retail companies, and even entire city governments. We’re not yet aware of the nature of this destruction, but the monster appears to assault its enemies with some form of vocal-based attack.

We still have no accurate information on the size of the creature. But he must be enormous. Large and powerful enough to destroy entire buildings. A citizen on Twitter going only by the name Bernie4Ever420 claims he just saw the John Oliver monster “crush” an entire Catholic Church.

I have another report here that the John Oliver monster has just, and I quote, “totally eviscerated” several prominent political officials. I can only imagine a monstrosity, several stories tall, with razor pincers or perhaps diamond-strong mandibles. Regardless, this is heartbreaking. Our prayers go out to their families.

Still trying to get some information on this crushed church. I’ve also been told I won’t believe what happens next, but, I hear, whatever this John Oliver does next, it will amaze me. Folks, at this point nothing could shock me, but I’m willing to believe anything.

In fact, this just in, I’m receiving another email forward about the John Oliver monster. Subject: “forward, forward, forward, forward, forward…” the title appears to run out, bear with me here.

My… god, listeners. I don’t even know how to tell you this. According to this email, it appears that—forgive me, this is hard to handle—it appears the John Oliver monster has “utterly destroyed” North Carolina. My god. All those people. Cut down instantly by what is said to be a “scathing assault.” Merciful heavens, it can breathe fire.

I’m trying to get confirmation on this but the reports seem to be solid. One report confirms in the strongest terms possible: “John Oliver has literally destroyed the North Carolina government with a literal scathing attack that has literally left them defeated and literally, literally wrecked.”

Ladies and gentlemen, I don’t know what is motivating or directing this creature, and far be it from me to abdicate my responsibility as a newsman to instill fear or panic in the populace, but it is becoming clear that no one is safe from its four beady eyes. Even now, a reddit thread has suggested the monster may be heading to Alabama to rip it apart. Oh, no. The monster’s approaching the South with those terrible, terrible mandibles!

He could appear at any minute! We are powerless to stop it! Run, citizens! Run before—no! Noooooo!

]]>Bug Typehttp://www.someguywithawebsite.com/bug-type/
Tue, 23 Aug 2016 17:09:31 +0000http://www.someguywithawebsite.com/?p=232Continue reading →]]>How are you guys? I’m doing great! You know, this is the best I’ve felt in a long time, and it’s all thanks to the newest and greatest mobile app sensation that’s taking the world by storm: Pokemon Go!

Look, this game is really freaking addictive, all right? Have you not checked out Pokemon Go yet? It’s really cool. So you walk around and look at stuff through your phone, and then your phone puts little monster things everywhere, and then you catch them with your phone, but it’s not like, in the game… you actually have to go in real like where all the Pokemon are. So, there can be a Caterpie on that table right there, and now I’m gonna catch it with this virtual ball thing and—no, look, I’m not looking at you, I’m looking at the fake caterpillar in front of you. Don’t make this weird.

And I’m not going to lie, I love it. To think at 35 years old, there’s finally a mobile product about cartoon monsters meant for me.

The best thing about it is how it’s really motivated me to be active and get a little healthier. You have to go outside and walk around. And you get a great workout too, other than the, you know, stopping every minute or so to try and catch a little pigeon cartoon thing. I have a step counter here… I walked… let’s see… 45 feet yesterday. Total. I want to make better progress than that because there’s this other thing in the game where you get eggs, but you have to hatch them by actually moving around, so like, if I want to hatch this Snorlax I need to walk ten kilometers so that’s why I’m walking around while I explain all of this to you.

You get to meet new people—I mean, you don’t actually meet them, I saw a bunch of people also trying to catch a Pidgeotto at Piedmont Park yesterday and I avoided eye contact because I didn’t want to make anything awkward, and then there were those moms who politely asked me not to come near their children at all. But there’s still just a general attitude of camaraderie and support. Just all those supportive honks I get from motorists when I’m catching an Evee in the intersection of Peachtree and 14th is motivation enough.

So the thing about it for me is, I never actually played Pokemon as a kid. This is all really new to me. It’s really funny seeing a bunch of children who all recognize these weird names, you know, like Pikachu and Nidoran and—what is it? Eck-Is? Eek-Is? I don’t know, I just know I haven’t caught the damn thing yet.

Anyway I was outside before in the bushes back there. Did you know there’s a rare Pokemon here? That’s what everyone is telling me. A few people were talking about how if you stand in any of the tall grass here you can catch a Zikavirus. It’s apparently super rare because like, only a few people in the entire country have caught one so you can understand why I have some of my attention focused on it. Plus I was reading about how apparently it can evolve into one of the toughest and deadliest organisms in the world.

But you know, I think it’s the real world integration that adds that element of excitement to the game. I can crank up the Xbox and play anything I want but with this, I feel like I’m actually taking some risk here. So I got a few bug bites wandering through some shrubbery, no big deal. That mosquito-filled mud puddle out back means tons of bug type Pokemon catching opportunities. And I swear, I’m not leaving until I’ve either run out of battery or I’m caught this legendary Zikavirus, or maybe if I just get really tired. Guys are you hot? I’m feeling super hot all of a sudden. I’m going to lie down. I’m just gonna wave my arms back and forth here holding the phone so it’ll think I’m still walking.

I had a conversation with some friends a few days ago about the new Ghostbusters movie, and I explained it like this: people like me—by that, I mean straight white guys who the majority of our pop culture for the last, oh let’s say, ever was made primarily for—in many cases aren’t angry about the new movie because of its quality, but because the idea that it wasn’t made with them in mind is some kind of cultural outrage. That’s what privilege is, in its essence—the idea that things are just expected to be for you, that you’re allowed to do and have what you want, and that the greatest offense you could face on a daily basis is being asked—not even told, but asked—to simply not do something.

The “crisis” people like me face with pop culture is that over the last few decades our collective culture has realized that it’s important and necessary to actually give other people things they might want. To many people like me, that feels like something’s being taken away as opposed to having something given to someone else. The trick here is, you have to accept that this isn’t an offense against you; it’s the natural progress of time.

As I get older, I have come to realize that there are many things I like that are going to change to appeal to other people. In short, a lot of stuff isn’t for me. And that’s okay. There’s tons of other stuff that can be for me. Or maybe, hell, maybe I can like that thing that wasn’t made for me anyway.

Hillary Clinton is this, on a level of stakes higher than any movie’s box office. There is a lot I like about her. There’s a lot I don’t. I am most certainly going to vote for her for president, because even if I ignored every single bit about the last 40-odd years of her life and pretended the Democrats nominated an apple pie with a little toothpick American flag stuck into it, I would understand it’s a more viable choice than a racist, ignorant coward who not only seeks to diminish the quality of life for the average American but openly brags about doing it.

And I’ll derail what I think was already a derail to talk about Trump for a second. I’m sick of hearing how he’s a “bully.” Of course he’s a bully. Bullies are everywhere. Your co-workers are bullies. Your boss is a bully. The bus driver can be a bully. Any act of trying to hurt or dominate another person because of a personal failing or sense of self worth is an act of bullying. Trump is the worst type of bully though. He’s a coward. It’s important to make this distinction because cowards are the most dangerous types of bullies. Bullies can be brought to heel, punched back, disciplined by authority. Cowards are wild dogs, backed in corners and ready to attack anyone because they’re terrified and don’t think straight and just want to hurt anything they see. He’s a pathetic, frightened man and we might hand him the keys to the nation’s nuclear arsenal. He’s afraid of women. He’s afraid of minorities. He’s afraid of not being rich. He’s afraid of not being important. He’s afraid of America. He’s afraid of Americans. And he wants to rule them now. If you think this same sensibility applies to Hillary Clinton, I would at the very least request you explain how doing this through several decades of humanitarian work was somehow an effective strategy on her part.

Which brings me back to Hillary. I am 35 years old. I have spent, at this point, literally half my entire life watching people hate Hillary Clinton. At this point, I don’t believe most Americans hate Hillary. They hate, as her husband noted the other day, the cartoon character Hillary Clinton. A gross caricature made of her, a doll crafted from mud and bile and shit and whatever bad parts of her exist. People don’t hate Hillary Clinton, the movie; they hate the trailer a bad editor released of her and now they’re making their own reviews and YouTube videos saying how they refuse to watch, sorry, I mean vote for her, or maybe they just want to keep screaming that she’s ruined president-ing for them. “I don’t like this version of Clinton. Why so much emphasis on women? What was wrong with the old Clinton? Or Reagan? They were such an important part of my childhood!”

I like Hillary Clinton. She will be a good president. She won’t be the best president ever, and she wasn’t what I personally wanted as the next leader of the free world. But Hillary Clinton wasn’t made for me. For once, this isn’t my movie. I’m still going to watch it, and still going to review it, but I’m not going to sit there, arms folded, harumph-ing over how I didn’t have a say in how the production happened. Good or bad, funny or unfunny, mild success or blockbuster sales, this means something so much more to other people. There are so many other people out there for who this matters in a way I at best can recognize, but will never truly understand. And that’s okay. And if this president turns out to suck, it’s okay too because they’ll release more presidents and we can all have our own opinions about them as well.

Okay, great, look, I’m glad I was finally able to reach someone and—yes, I’m fine. How are you? Hello?

Oh damn it; this is still one of those automated response robots isn’t it? For crap’s sake, I just need to talk to an actual—

Oh. Oh god. You are. I’m so sorry about that. Are… are you okay?

You just work at Ticketmaster.

Wow. Okay, so it’s been a bad week for you too, I guess?

Well, look, I mean I DID call to complain but I, you know, I know it’s not YOUR fault here, I just wanted to figure out what’s going on with that lawsuit settlement—you know, the free tickets thing? Well, the news was saying that as part of the class-action suit Ticketmaster is supposed to give me free tickets to shows and—oh, no, that’s just it. I got them. You guys gave me a bunch of free tickets. That’s… that’s actually why I called.

Okay, so, for example, I’m looking at the options of shows I can go to, and the first one I found was something called “Monster Madness 2016.” That is… that is a monster truck rally, right? Okay, yeah, great. Well, no, I’m not actually interested in going to a monster truck rally. But that’s the thing, you guys said there’s like, a huge list of free concerts I can go to. Okay, so here’s one, Georgia Dome, November 12… “Georgia Carmageddon” and that… appears to also be a monster truck rally. Alright, look further ahead… let’s see, “Winter Metalfest” in December. Yeah, I’m a big metal guy, what are the bands? Massive Carnage, Thunderwheels, Gravedigger… these are all the names of monster trucks aren’t they?

All right, this is kind of the point of why I am calling, okay? It appears that Ticketmaster has offered me sixteen free vouchers to various monster truck rallies throughout the state of Georgia. Gonna be honest, I didn’t know there were even that many monster truck rallies at all, let alone in one state.

Well, yes, I understand that means I have a full range of options for the monster truck rallies I may choose to attend, but—no, I’ve never been to a monster truck rally before, but I don’t really—yes, I have been made aware in the past that monster truck rallies are “bitchin’.” Am I definitely not talking to a robot right now?

Well, because you sound like you seem to be almost programmed to push me on this monster truck rally thing! I am not getting angry, I just want to make it clear here: I was promised free tickets as part of a mistake your company made, and I am expecting options a little more interesting than starting at cars and a puddle of mud for two hours!

No, I don’t want tickets to a Puddle of Mudd performance.

No, I don’t care that Puddle of Mudd is playing at the monster truck rally!

Look, I get that you have to push events and stuff, but I thought this settlement thing meant I could go to the concerts I actually want to see! My friend got Bob Dylan tickets, for crying out loud.

No, I don’t agree that a Bob Dylan concert will never allow me the spectacle of a car-eating robot tyrannosaurus. You never know. He is nothing if not an innovator!

Are you crying?

Oh man, look, I’m sorry. I got mad there and I took it out on you. I get it, you of all people probably know how frustrated everyone is with Ticketmaster, especially over this. I mean, you’d be frustrated too if you got a bunch of free tickets but were told…

Really? Not a single ticket?

Now come on, that doesn’t mean Ticketmaster doesn’t like you. Oh my god, it certainly doesn’t mean nobody loves you. Hey, you just need to get out of that office, give yourself a good time.

Umm… yeah, I think I am free next Saturday actually. And you’re sure you’re not an automated response robot. You know what? I guess it doesn’t matter. Okay, Next Saturday. What do you want to do?